


Heat

by Adara_Rose



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Passion, Simultaneous Orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 01:44:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: And Q didn’t want to think either, as his tongue once more demanded entrance, sought dominion. He let it, rising one leg and resting it on the backrest, cradling Q in the vee of his thighs as if he was made to rest there.





	Heat

The evening was late, and somewhere high above the stars were twinkling in a most obnoxious way. Eliot poured himself a glass of wine as he let the crown fall unwanted to the floor, where magic that was not his kept it from denting. It slipped away like a cowed dog, and he drained half the glass in one gulp. 

 

He had clearly pissed off the wrong power, since it had ended with him where he was. He felt like a joke, or a bad actor in a play where he didn’t know his lines and nobody gave him any cues. 

 

He refilled the glass, flopping down on the nearest elegant sofa with an inelegant groan.

 

“If your people could see you now” Q teased and Eliot jumped, spilling wine all over himself.

 

“I didn’t hear you come in” he said, hating how he had spooked so easily. 

 

Q, and when the hell had he come in anyway?, sauntered across the room in a way that Eliot usually did. As if he owned the space. It wasn’t at all like his usual puppy bounding. It was… intriguing. The glass slipped from suddenly unresponsive fingers.

 

“Today I kept thinking how hot you looked on the throne” Q told him, as if in confidence. “But you know what else I was thinking?” He leaned down over Eliot, his breath hot on his neck. 

 

“No?” Eliot leaned his head back, offering better access. Heat began to snake through him.

 

“How much hotter you’d look sitting on my dick.” Q smirked. “Writhing and moaning like a bitch as i fucked you, nice and slow, the court staring in horror.”

 

“They wouldn’t dare” Eliot protested, his voice thick with want. A part of him hated the other magician for the power he had over him. Like he was sixteen again, the star quarterback’s calloused hands parting his thighs for the first time. 

 

“Perhaps not” Q agreed as he straddled Eliot, eyes dark and heavy with decadent promises. “But it’d be hot.”

 

Q kissed him then, deep and slow, making love to his mouth with lips and tongue and Eliot couldn't breathe, drunk more on the taste of him than the wine that had been flowing most of the night. Eliot slid his hands up under his shirt, finding pale skin soft and warm like fine silk sheets near the fire. Heat coursed through him, aching low in his belly, pooling in his groin. Q straddled him, pressing his hips down against Eliot’s, and he felt the other man’s erection through the fabric of his trousers. It made his own dick pulse with sympathy.

 

They kissed languidly, letting the night take them where she wanted, even if they both knew where they would be come dawn. There was no hurry, only deep kisses, heady with promise and heat. Eliot changed his position slightly, Q following willingly, until they were lying on the couch, pressed together from head to feet, still kissing.

 

Eliot’s fingers tangled in Q’s hair. Like this, with Q’s hands holding him like he was something precious, the passion in his kisses making his head spin, it felt like this was more than just sex. As if something else was happening, something beyond them. A deeper hunger, a new need, was waking and it frightened him. He didn’t want to examine it, didn’t want to know. So instead, he tore his throbbing lips away from Q’s, gasping with the intensity. 

“Fuck” he choked out when he found his voice, still staring into the other man’s eyes. “You-”

But maybe Q didn’t want to think either, as his tongue once more demanded entrance, sought dominion. He let it, rising one leg and resting it on the backrest, cradling Q in the vee of his thighs as if he was made to rest there. 

Q moaned into his mouth, his hips shifting and pushing against Eliot’s, seeking friction. The fact that they were still separated by their clothes just made the sensations more intense. 

 

“Q” Eliot moaned when his mouth at last were released for desperate breaths, “Q-” his words were gone, as if they had no place here. Instead, he pressed his hips against him, begging wordlessly.

 

Q kissed him again, taking away what sense he had left, even as he undid Eliot’s trousers, pulling them down over his hips. He raised them lightly, groaning as his dick sprung free from it’s confines, hard and hungry and wanting. Their fingers slipped over and around each other as they together undid Q’s fly, both moaning at the first contact of skin on skin. Q pressed him down, grinding against him, their dicks sliding together with almost painful slowness, made obscene by fabric rubbing and chafing against sensitive skin.

 

Eliot hooked his leg over Q’s hip, pulling him closer, both moaning as they slid together. 

“So good” Q gasped against his mouth, “El-” 

 

His mouth was like fire, rewriting the world in crimson. Long, slim fingers wrapped around both of them, stroking, caressing, and Eliot bucked into his grip, wanting more. But he couldn’t speak, his words refusing to return to him.

“Ah-” he choked, pressing frantic kisses to Q’s face, his beautiful face, hovering above his, dark eyes holding him captive, undoing him with every pull on overheated, slippery flesh.

 

“So good” Q groaned into his mouth, stroking faster.

“Yeah” he gasped, his hands moving of their own will as they found their way down Q’s back, gripping his ass, pressing him closer. Q rewarded him with twisting his hand just so, making stars go off in his head.

“Fuck!” he groaned, bucking up against him.

“As his majesty wishes” Q teased, rubbing a calloused thumb over the sensitive head of his cock, making Eliot moan in a way that was positively obscene.

“Q-” he choked out, both a plea and a warning. 

“Yeah” Q panted, kissing every thought from his lips, “fuck, yeah.”

 

Eliot closed his eyes, let his head fall back against the armrest, falling into slow, languid heat as each stroke of Q’s hand brought him closer to that moment where it was too much. He could feel Q’s eyes on him, his gaze heavy and dark.

 

“So fucking beautiful, El” Q whispered, as if his words too were afraid to exist. So Eliot kissed him instead, not wanting to hear them, not wanting them to ruin what he dared not name.

 

“Q” he gasped, “Q!” his hips stuttered, the heat coiling and writhing within erupting as he released, shuddering and panting with the intensity. Q pulled at his hardness once, twice, and it almost hurt it felt so good. Then he felt the other magician release, pressed against him, hard and wet and unending.

 

“You” Q whispered as they cling to each other, after. “You.”

 

It was all that needed to be said.


End file.
